[ Oh. Stephen blinks at him. His brow creases into the softer workings of a frown-in-progress... and a second later, he lets out a breathy huff of laughter.
Of all the times to be asked that question. ]
Okay is relative. I'm looking at this as a sabbatical.
[ Not a yes, but it is at least an I'm grateful for what I've got. Which might be more depressing than his being here in the first place, but that's life. ]
[ Nate points out with a grudging tilt of his head, but doesn't pursue further pressing. He knows the nimble dodging of a question when he sees it. After a long moment Nate slaps his hands on his knees and stands, sore but not uneasy. He meanders over to the carton he left on the table and starts hunting for glasses.
[ Glasses appropriately retrieved Nate pours the both of them healthy helpings of orange juice, moving to close the space between them as he hands it over. They could both probably use something a lot stronger, but with his current blood loss he knows better than to push his luck in any direction that spells potential inebriation. ]
Managed to kick her off me, scrambled to the edge of the roof and jumped. Caught myself on some scaffolding coming down and lost her in the crowd.
[ Accepting the offered glass, Stephen fixes Nate with a very particular look. It's the kind of look that says yes, sadly and but not for everyone. There's curiosity there that's only just overruled by the gently mounting stress of another looming problem.
Chances are she'd have killed him if he hadn't hastily thrown himself off a building and had the skills in place to avoid death by sidewalk. And a ravenous vampire no longer on a diet doesn't simmer down by itself.
A long, slow sip is answer enough, right? Here's hoping, because it's the answer he gets. On the swallow, there's another pressing question. ]
[ Chances are she'd have killed him if he wasn't so goddamn quick on his feet and accustomed to people actively trying to kill him, so Nate doesn't have particularly high hopes for any other potential victims she might try to divest of their blood. It seems as though Stephen is in agreement with Nate's wordless assessment, given his equivalent wordlessness and the lull that develops between them. ]
Wade Wilson. New hire for security and other odd-job stuff.
[ He takes a long sip of his orange juice. ]
Would've patched myself but he happened to be locking up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Of all the times to be asked that question. ]
Okay is relative. I'm looking at this as a sabbatical.
[ Not a yes, but it is at least an I'm grateful for what I've got. Which might be more depressing than his being here in the first place, but that's life. ]
no subject
[ Nate points out with a grudging tilt of his head, but doesn't pursue further pressing. He knows the nimble dodging of a question when he sees it. After a long moment Nate slaps his hands on his knees and stands, sore but not uneasy. He meanders over to the carton he left on the table and starts hunting for glasses.
Over his shoulder: ]
Juice?
no subject
Why not? Top door to the right.
[ The cabinet for glasses. Let's drink to the release of a held breath, a reprieve from being seen, and a casual change of subject. ]
How did you get clear of her?
no subject
[ Glasses appropriately retrieved Nate pours the both of them healthy helpings of orange juice, moving to close the space between them as he hands it over. They could both probably use something a lot stronger, but with his current blood loss he knows better than to push his luck in any direction that spells potential inebriation. ]
Managed to kick her off me, scrambled to the edge of the roof and jumped. Caught myself on some scaffolding coming down and lost her in the crowd.
[ He raises his eyebrows. ]
Just another day at the office, right?
no subject
Chances are she'd have killed him if he hadn't hastily thrown himself off a building and had the skills in place to avoid death by sidewalk. And a ravenous vampire no longer on a diet doesn't simmer down by itself.
A long, slow sip is answer enough, right? Here's hoping, because it's the answer he gets. On the swallow, there's another pressing question. ]
And who was your midnight medic?
no subject
Wade Wilson. New hire for security and other odd-job stuff.
[ He takes a long sip of his orange juice. ]
Would've patched myself but he happened to be locking up.